Intricate: Faith's Story
by Felidae Silvestris
Summary: A re-write of Intricate, written entirely from Faith's point of view. Low-level Fuffy. Faith is pulled into an alternate dimension that contains the Marvelverse as well as a different future of her own.
1. Prologue

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter: Prologue

Author's Note: Okay so, I've decided to go through my fanfiction and check for errors and whatnot. I'm currently re-working this story by pulling it completely into two different parts. Bear with me please.

Why is it that even when we pause to smell the roses, we never really pause at all? Sure, we stop moving and all that, but we never really pause. We keep thinking of other things, not just those pesky little roses. Who really likes roses anyhow? You try to pluck one off the bush and the thorns get you. Are roses really worth that risk? What happens if, one day, you stumble upon a hedge comprised completely of rose bushes? You have to get to the other side and this hedge is bordered but really tall concrete or metal walls. You have nothing with which to cut down the roses and you find you have to climb over them. Do you just sit and wait for someone to come help you destroy the roses or do you climb over the hedge?

Personally, I'd climb over them. I mean, what's a few bleeding cuts to what could be a very, very long wait. I've had worse. I've caused worse. And the funny thing is, I would do it again. I'd do it all again with one tiny difference.

I wouldn't let go of Buffy's hand.


	2. Xavier's Institute

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter One: Xavier's Institute

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Angel, or the X-Men

My Slayer hearing picks up the sound of a jet taking off pretty close to the room I'm in. My eyes pop open to the darkness of the night. The roommate they stuck me with is silhouetted against the starlit window. She doesn't say a word, just sits there, staring out the window. The jet's gone now or at least out of my hearing range. My roommate turns away from the window but doesn't seem to see me. She drifts back to bed without saying a word. Not that I expected her to. Wanda doesn't say much unless she's with her brother or best friend.

I lay awake, eventually drifting over to the window myself, looking out at the unfamiliar night sky. There are only a few more hours till sunrise. Another sunrise in a world that has absolutely no need for a Slayer. There are no Hellmouths, next to no vampires, plenty of demons not harming anyone; and even if there were, Dr. Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme can take care of them without so much as a cry for help. As much as it pains me to say it, I miss Vegas, the Scoobs, and most of all, Buffy.

She's been my sister Slayer for as long as I've been a Slayer. Sure, we've both almost killed each other, but it's like we've got that freaky twin thing, only more pronounced. But, maybe that's just a Slayer thing, I dunno. Point is, I miss that pain in the ass, goody-two-shoes Buffy Summers.

I glance back at Wanda, making sure she's asleep before I push the window open. A quick kick and the screen tumbles to the ground, three floors below. And now, it's my turn. Good thing I always sleep in my clothes. My boots are tossed out the window before I climb out, leaping to the ground. I've fallen further and still not gotten so much as a concussion.

The boots go on and I traipse myself into the woods surrounding the Xavier Institute. They'll catch me before long, I know. Hopefully, Mr. Better-Than-Thou Summers won't try to get in my way. Isn't it funny how some things just never change? I spent half my life being lorded over by a Summers and then I flip universes and there's another Summers around trying to keep me in line. And the really funny thing is, they're not related and yet act almost the same. And all at once I'm thinking about Buffy again.

Good old Buffy Summers. Super Slayer. I wonder what ol' Buffy's up to now…

* * *

Surprise, surprise. I've made it to the wall and haven't been stopped yet. Not that I haven't been followed. I may not be able to see who's following, but I can hear him. Hey, gotta love them Slayer senses.

The wall is brick, plenty of little chinks and handholds; unfortunately enough for me, I'm going to have to use the handholds instead of jumping it. I've got my hands on the wall before my mystery-man shows himself.

"Curfew was hours ago, darlin'." The gruff voice came from the shadows as none other than Logan, The Wolverine, materializes from them. The man is short, stocky, hairy, and smells perpetually of cigars. He's okay, as the people here go, if you don't mind a burly man following you around everywhere.

"I'm old enough to not have a curfew." I don't turn from the wall. If I play my cards right, I may just get out for once. "Night is my time, Wolvie. And besides, it's not like you need me here."

"One-eye and Emma don't trust you just yet." Wolvie takes a drag on his cigar. "Tell ya the truth, no one does. Not really anyway."

"I'm used to that," I shoot back, pulling myself higher on the wall. I was moving slowly; talking always slowed me down. _Concentrate, Faith,_ I chastise myself. Wolvie wasn't trying to stop me, but I had a sneaking suspicion he could pretty easily. Slayer powers had nothing on Wolverine's animalistic speed and unrestrained healing powers. Slayers don't even heal as fast.

"Where are ya goin'?"

"Somewhere that's not here." Truth be told, I was gonna high tail it to Cali. Maybe the X-Men were wrong about there not being any need for a Slayer. Maybe Wolvie would let me find out. And maybe Bringers would fly. You never know. "Look, I'm not a teenager who needs lookin' after. I'm an adult and last time I checked the U.S. of A. is still a free country. You people have no right to keep me here. I may as well split when there's next to no one to stop me." I finally reach the top of the wall. "Don't worry about me, Wolvie."

"Can't help it, darlin'." Wolvie takes another drag on his cigar. "Good luck." He walks off, blending into the shadows almost immediately.

Well, what do ya know? Life is suddenly looking up. I might make it to Cali after all.


	3. Slayer

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter Two: Slayer

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Angel, or the X-Men

Ya ever notice how all bus-stations tend to look the same? Every single one looks exactly the same. Only difference is the brochures and maps. You tend to see the same batches of homeless people sleeping on the benches or in the corners. All the floors are the same gray concrete and all the chairs are that same plastic. Been there, done that, am doing it again.

Greyhound stations are like a second home to me. I rode buses all the way to SunnyD and a bus to LA. It's like history is repeating itself, only now I'm older and not nearly so reckless. Oh, and no murdering vampire's after me this time. Truth be told, I'm probably going to end up reverting to some of my old ways in order to actually make it to SunnyD alive.

"Look, just give me a damned ticket!" A girl, about sixteen, seems to be harassing the ticket lady. She steps back, revealing shallow gouges in the wood the shape of her fingers.

"We don't serve Muties." The woman behind the counter was shaky but resolute as she steps back from said counter.

The girl's fists slam into the counter, gouging it again. "I'm _not_ a mutant," she hisses before turning, stalking away, and slamming herself into one of those stupid plastic seats.

This girl holds my attention. Don't know why; don't really care all that much. However, I could feel another Slayer nearby and I was betting the girl was it. How many other non-mutant girls with strength enough to gouge wood with their bare hands do you come across in a world where you think you're the only Slayer? Not many I can tell you. So, maybe I got pulled through that portal for a reason or maybe it's just a coincidence. I don't believe in coincidences.

"I need two tickets for the bus to Chicago." And there goes my mouth, running ahead of my brain… again. I'm pulling a Buffy and I know it.

"That'll be twenty dollars." The man behind this counter didn't ask me whether or not I was a Mutant. I'm guessing he either doesn't care or assumes I'm not. Whatever, I don't really care. I fork over the cash and he forks over the tickets.

I slide into the seat next to the sulking Slayer. Oh yeah, Slayer senses tingling and all that. The girl's was definitely a Slayer. "So, kid, where ya headed?" She lifts her blue eyes to give me a "You talkin' to me?" look. "Noticed that old lady wouldn't give you your ticket."

"She's a bitch."

"Yeah, kinda noticed that. I've got an extra ticket if you wanna head to Chicago." I hold up my two tickets and her eyes light up. "The name's Faith."

She scrunches up her face. "That's weird, I'm Hope."

I nod; it is kinda weird. Go figure. "So, Hope, you game for The Windy City?"

Hope's eyes narrow. "Why are you helping me?"

There it is, the million-dollar question. Best go with the truth part of it. "Kindred souls or something like that. What you did to the counter, I can do that too. I'm not a mutant and neither are you."

"So what are we?"

I stand, looking down at her. "Come to Chicago with me and I'll fill you in."


	4. New Beginning

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or the X-Men. Props to Joss and Stan.

Chapter Three: New Beginning

Hope and Faith, Vampire Slayers. Turned out, Chicago was a bust for anything but training. Not a vamp or demon in the place, not that I looked too hard. Turning a new Slayer mostly nocturnal is _not_ the easiest thing in the world. I seem to remember my shift being easier. Hope's a good kid, though. Reminds me of how I'd been, minus the homicidal tendencies or course.

She's eager, likes the Slaying just a bit too much, but she's grounded. Which is a good thing. Grounded by the thought that as far as the rest of the world's concerned, she and I are Mutants. Mutants with pretty average powers, yeah, but Mutants all the same.

"So, where to now?" Hope asks me one day after flooring me with a punch to my open side.

"What are you talkin' about?" I lift myself back up, kicking out with both feet into Hope's gut.

Hope gives me one of those "What do you think I'm talking about" looks. "There's nothing here, Faith. _Please_ tell me we're not gonna stick around for much longer."

Girl after my own heart, really. Not staying in one place for too long. Good plan, provided you've got the cash to do it. Which we barely did. "Next place we go, we're staying for more than a week. I've got some stuff to figure out."

Hope rolls her eyes at me. "So where's this place? Somewhere away from Mutant-haters?"

"How do you feel about California?" Sunnydale, here we come.

* * *

By all appearances, Sunnydale is exactly as it had been when I'd shown up the first time. In fact, Hope and I manage stake claim to the exact same hotel-room I'd been in. Home sweet home. Not.

"Okay, here's the plan. You and me, we're gonna scope out the Bronze tonight." I pace in front of the little TV, obscuring Hope's view of it.

Her eyebrow rose. "Bronze?"

"The local night-club. Best place for vamps to hunt. Trust me."

"So you've been here before?"

"This is where I … managed to help turn this place into a crater." No need to fill the kid in on the more sketchy times of my life.

"A crater?" Her voice held a skeptical edge to it.

"Long story short, the place I came from. This place had it comin'. No use goin' crazy over it now. Point is, you and I are going to check out the Bronze tonight. After that, you'll take a cemetery and patrol. I'm gonna patrol another so tonight you're on your own."

Hope's face brightens. I'd seen that look on Kennedy's face when Buffy first let her out on her own. I remember B'd been worried sick about her, too. I'd probably be worried once I'd seen for myself that there was a Hellmouth in the basement of Sunny-D High. Till then, I could rest easy.

"So, I get to patrol all on my lonesome?" Hope asks, supposedly to clarify.

"Yep. All by your lonesome. Don't get cocky."

Hope smirks. "Not a problem. I'll have my ever-present Slayer buddy to help me out with that."


	5. Watcher

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or the X-Men. Props to Joss and Stan, again…

Chapter Four: Watcher

The Bronze in this Sunnydale is exactly the same as the other one, down to the last cheap paper coaster. The crowd is pretty much the same as it had been during what high school experience, or lack thereof, I'd had in SunnyD, except for the Mutants. My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces. As luck would have it, the infamous Dingoes Ate My Baby were playing and Oz was the first of the Scoobs to catch my eye.

What surprised me was that Oz is furry. Easily recognizable, sure, but furry. Almost like his werewolf form had taken over, but less with the ugly. The fur looks good on him, truth be told.

"Dude, there's Mutants everywhere." Hope's voice is filled with awe as she gazes around at the patrons.

"The Bronze always did attract all types. Makes our job harder, though. Why don't you go get us some drinks? I'll snag us a table."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." Hope fake salutes me and takes off toward the bar.

Time to find the rest of the gang. Shouldn't be too hard. I head toward the upper floor, thinking to get a better view. Next thing I know, I'm colliding with some blonde girl.

"Watch where you're going," commands an oh so familiar voice.

"Same to you," I retort automatically. Looking up, I stare straight into Buffy Summers' hazel eyes.

Buffy pushes past me and my eyes followed her. She's in Sunnydale, which means she's a Slayer. Hope had been activated instead of either Kendra or me. Buffy settles at a table with whom I can only assume are Willow and Xander.

"Miss Lehane?" A hand settles on my shoulder and I spin.

"Who's asking?"

The woman is blond and dressed in a business suit on a Friday night at a club. Something's up. She stuck out her hand. "My name is Valerie Cooper. I represent both the Watcher's Council and the U.S. Government. If I may have a word with you?"

"Look, lady, I'm kinda busy right now so –"

"That wasn't a question, Miss Lehane." She takes my arm near the elbow. "If you'll come with me."

I pull my arm out of her grip and reluctantly follow her, casting a glance back at the laughing blond Slayer. Val leads me upstairs to a small table near the railing. Hope is already seated, looking just about as annoyed as I feel.

"What's this about?" Hope asks as Val sat down.

"You and Miss Lehane have caused quite a stir within the occult circles. It's not often that there's more than one Slayer. Let alone, three."

"Hold up one gosh darned minute. Steven Strange and the X-Men said there was no Watcher's Council and no Slayer."

"Not to his knowledge. But let us just say that there are significant gaps in the Sorcerer Supreme's knowledge. Regardless of what the Sorcerer Supreme and the X-Men told you, Miss Lehane, the Watcher's Council exists."

"Who's Steven Strange? What's a Watcher?" Hope asks in Cooper's direction before turning to me. "You met the X-Men and didn't tell me?"

"Not important." God, the kid doesn't seem to see what deep shit we're in. "Look, regardless of what you're going to tell us, I'm telling you that we don't need a Watcher."

"Don't need a Watcher? Really?" Cooper's perfectly manicured eyebrow rose. "You are aware that the Council pays for the upkeep of all Slayers? Regardless of how many there are at a time? And are you aware that Emma Frost, the telepath who screened you when you first appeared in this dimension, informed me of your past transgressions?"

The next thing I know, I'm leaning over the table and in Cooper's face. "You don't think I'm paying for what I did every day of my life?"

"Faith, calm down." Hope's standing next to me, hand on my shoulder.

I pull back, running a hand through my hair. I have to leave so I stand. "Hope, I'm going on patrol." I turn to leave, heading toward the stairs.

"Miss Lehane," Cooper's voice cut me short. "Whether you like it or not, I'm your appointed Watcher. You and Hope, both."

I don't say anything, but continue on my way down the stairs and out of the Bronze.


	6. LA

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or the X-Men. Props to Joss and Stan, again…

Chapter Five: LA

Adding insult to injury, Val insisted on moving Hope and I to LA Not only could I not be close to the place that was pretty much home to me, but I also couldn't be near the one person who I was trying to get back to.

"Forging a connection with the younger Buffy Summers will only lead to more heartbreak, Faith. It's not wise to be anywhere near her." Val lectured at me. I say "at me" because I wasn't listening. Not really.

There's really nothing Val could do that would keep me away from B. If I had to leave Hope with her, then so be it. Only problem was, Hope had turned into my shadow. Our Slayer connection kept her aware of my movements to the point that I could leave and go to a club and an hour later, there would be Hope, dancing not three feet away from me.

A few weeks after our move to LA I got the idea to look up Angel. Turns out, B had managed to defeat The Mayor without my being there. Fang and Queen C had set up shop just a few blocks from where Val had rented our apartment.

"Tell me you knew about this?" I ask Val, shoving Fang's business card under her nose.

Val leans back and snatches the card from my hand. "Angel Investigations? That's the detective agency down the street, isn't it?"

"Duh."

"And why would I have known about it?"

"Angel runs it. You know, only vamp to ever have a soul? B's ex-boyfriend? Formerly known as Angelus? Tell me that rings a bell?"

"Angelus? Catholicism have anything to do with the shouting?" Hope asks, coming into the room with a plate of Bagel Bites.

"What? No. Angelus is, was, a very prominent vamp back in the day."

"Oh. When do we kill him?"

"We're not killing him," Val replies.

"Why not? He's a vamp, we're Slayers, let's go kill the sucker."

"He has a soul, H. He's a good guy now," I explain.

"A soul?"

"Yeah, a soul. Angelus was cursed with a soul and then started going by Angel. He runs the detective agency down the street which is what V and I were talking about."

"Why do you insist on calling us by the first letter of our names?" Val asks wearily.

I shrug. "It's a thing I do. But that's not the point. Angel is. I'm going to see him."

"No, you're not." Val stands abruptly, knocking her glass of water to the floor.

* * *

"Faith!" Val calls as I storm down the stairs of our apartment building.

"You can't stop me, V, don't even try!" I call back.

"Hope, do something!"

"Don't you dare, Hopey. Just don't!" I don't look back over my shoulder as Hope follows me out. Val's as hot on our heels as a non-Slayer could be. I was going to see Angel and no one was going to stop me.

"Faith, don't you think you're being a little … irrational about this?" Hope asks, not trying to stop me, but following anyway.

"Irrational? Me? No, I don't think so."

"You can't go see this guy just because you knew him in your dimension."

"He can help me get back, Hope. I know he can."


	7. Angel Investigations

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter Six: Angel Investigations

"Welcome to Angel Investiga-" Cordelia Chase, a.k.a. Queen C, started on her usual, bubbly greeting, but stopped, staring at me in horror.

"Hey, Queen C. 'Sup?" I hear the door open and shut behind me as Hope enters the little office.

Queen C keeps staring at me, mouth hanging open, horror in her eyes. I ignore her in favor of Wes, my old Watcher, coming out of what had to be Fang's office behind her. He drops the file-folder he'd had in his hand and stares at me, too. His face is white as a sheet. "F-Faith?"

"Looks like they've seen a ghost," Hope says.

I elbow her. "Yeah. Was I really that terrible to you two that you need to stare at me like that? I'm pretty sure I'm – the other me's – still in a coma so what gives?" The door opens behind Hope and I again and I heard the click of heels.

"Faith! I told you this could _not_ happen," Val snaps, not even paying attention to Queen C and Wes.

I ignore her, taking a few steps toward C and Wes, which they echo. "Okay, you two, quit. You're giving me the wiggins."

"P-perhaps we ought to ha-have Angel explain things to you," Wes finally speaks up, gesturing to the door behind him.

"Maybe he'd better." I stride toward the door to Fang's office, receiving odd looks from the pair.

"Don't do this, Faith," Val orders.

"Too late," I reply, opening Fang's office door.

"Wes, I told you - Faith?!" Fang's eyes bug and he pales. Well, pales as much as his vampire self can. "What? How?"

Okay, now I'd had enough of this shit. "What are you blabbering about, Soul-Boy?"

"You're dead. Buffy killed you." His face returns to its normal broody look.

"She –" I freeze. What the hell? I was dead? I'd died from knife in my gut? My scar tingled slightly at the thought. "When I saw her at the Bronze she didn't recognize me."

"That's understandable, you look different. Older."

"That's because I am."

The door slams open and Val storms in. "You can't tell him –"

"The hell I can't! Look, I'm from another dimension, Fang. A future dimension that's not like this one."

* * *

"So, let me get this straight, you were sucked out of your dimension and thrown into ours. You met up with the X-Men and they could not help you?" Wes repeats the abridged version for what seemed like the zillionth time. "You found Hope and the pair of you made your way to Sunnydale where Ms. Cooper found you. Do I have that right?" 

I roll my eyes. "You've only said it a zillion times, Wes."

"You've got it right, Mr. Pryce," Hope says, elbowing me this time.

"I don't trust her," Cordy states. "Wilkins could have had one of his demon buddies bring her back from the dead."

"Then why aren't I fucking up SunnyD, huh, C?" I snap, having tired of her real quick. "Far as I'm concerned, me and the Dale, we're five by five. Ain't nothin' gonna change that. Point is, I'm askin' for your help, Angel. I want to get home."

Angel runs a hand through his spiky hair. "I'm not sure there's much we can do, Faith. If the Sorcerer Supreme couldn't –"

"Strange ain't been doin' squat short of lookin' in books. And dude, I'm willin' to wait a few years for Red to get all powered up so long as I get home."

"You might want to consider the possibility that you may not be able to get home, Faith," Val points out.

I glare at her. "One thing you learn in this biz, Val, is that ain't nothin' you can't do you get it into your head to do. Trust me, got hundreds of little Slayers runnin' 'round back home to prove it."

"Hundreds of Slayers?" Wes asks, head jerking up.

I nod, ignoring Val's "Don't do it" look. "Hundreds, Wes. Just wait, Red'll get all super-powered and activate 'em just in time to save the world."

"As it is, there are three of us, now," Hope interjects. "Val thought it'd be a bad idea to have us stay in Sunnydale due to some type of history she and Faith aren't talking about."

"Faith went insane and died." Cordy glares at me.

"I take it the knife B stole from me ended up a little too far to the left? That's great. Doesn't matter now, I'm here, alive and well." I cross my arms over my chest. "Ain't nothin' you say gonna change that."

"Okay, okay, stop it." Angel holds up and hand toward Cordy and a hand toward me. "We're going to do what we can to get you back to where you belong, Faith. Meanwhile, I'm sure we could use a little Slayer power to back us up."

I shrug. "Fine by me. Hope?"

Hope nods. "I'm in. Haven't Slayed anything since Chicago. Training, training, training."

"The Council is not going to sanction this," Val says.

"Well then I officially stop working for the Council as of the time they assigned me to you. Soul-boy here's much better at givin' me orders I'll take anyway."

"You can't –"

"I'm out of the Council, too. They didn't find me, Faith did." Hope grins at me and I can't help but grin back.

"You can't do that!" Val exclaims. "Slayers are supposed to work for the Watcher's Council."

"I think you'll find that Faith and Hope can quit following the Council," Wes points out. "Buffy quit some time before the Mayor's incineration."

Val looks like she's about to blow a serious gasket. "And besides, Val. Wes always was a better Watcher than you were."

And that's all it took. Val glares around at all of us. "You will not hear the end of this." She storms out of the offices.

I grin at Angel. "Looks like Angel Investigations just hired itself a pair o' Slayers."


	8. Caritas

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter Seven: Caritas

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, Buffy, or X-Men.

Dust flies up into my face as the vamp I'd pinned explodes into it. I cough, waving a hand in front of my face to clear the air.

"Got an allergy to the stuff?" questions smart-mouth Charles Gunn, alias Gunn.

"Only when it tries to choke me to death," I reply, hopping to my feet. "That the last of 'em?"

"You tell me, I'm not the one with super-powers."

I raise an eyebrow. This version of Gunn does, in fact, have what I classify as super-powers. His eyes are snaky, meaning his pupils are slitted. He can also "see" the heat in things, like looking at an infrared picture. And don't ask me about the smelling with his tongue thing, 'cause I have no clue. Gunn's skin is also kinda scaly, but only to the touch.

"Okay, not that kind of super-power. These things aren't warm-blooded."

"But you can tell if they've eaten."

"Faintly. So, Miss 'I can sense vamps,' did we get them all?"

"All the ones in this alley. Didn't see any get away."

Gunn nods. "Good, now let's get out of here."

I nod back, following him out of the alley. I dust off my jacket as we walked; just a few doors down from this place called Caritas, which I knew only vaguely. Angel, Cordy, Wes, Hope, and Val were all waiting for us there. Angel apparently knew the owner.

"This place is a demon magnet," Gunn points out as we step through the metal detector.

"It's supposedly this mystic what-sit called a sanctuary," I reply.

"Like a church?"

"Something like that, yeah." I spot Angel and the gang. Gunn and I head over. "Yo."

"We were wondering when you geeks were gonna show." Hope hops up out of her chair to hug me. Gotta say, the hugs are actually kinda nice, just don't tell anyone.

"We spotted a couple vamps on our way here. Were forced to take 'em out," Gunn supplies.

"How many?" Val asks.

"Not enough to distract me from how annoying you are." I pull up a chair, flashing a grin.

"Faith, do you know how to sing?" Angel asks, looking all innocent. Crap. Now I remember who owns the place.

"Sing? Fang, you're joking. You have to be fucking kidding me. There is no way I'm going to sing for Green-skin. No fucking way."

"Green-skin? You've met Lorne before?" Wesley asks, leaning over the table and closer to me.

"At home. We have our own version of him. There is no way in all of Hell that I'm singing. No way." I was gesturing with my hands, universal symbol for no.

"What if Lorne can find some way to help you get home?" Angel stays calm, leaning just a little bit forward. "Maybe if you sing for him, he can tell us what to do to get on the right track."

I shake my head. "Green-skin's powers don't work like that. Really, they don't. You know it."

"Look, you're already scheduled in the line-up. Lorne's doing us a favor."

"Not to mention, this isn't just to help you. You're helping our client out, too," Hope puts in, grinning at me discomfort.

I glare in her direction. "Look, I told you, I'll wait for Red to get all powerful and then she can get me back home."

"That's an awfully long time to wait," Val points out, looking cool as a cucumber even amongst the demon patrons. "I'd think you'd want to get back to your home as soon as possible."

And I do, but apparently the only way to get back to B was to wait until Red could pull it off. "I do. You have no idea how badly I want to get home, but there is no way I'm singing for Lorne. No fucking way."

So, yeah, did I mention I hate singing? Dancing, I've got no problem with, but singing? B couldn't get me off the couch at that karaoke place in Japan, if that tells you anything. Hell, I'd rather replay my first year in SunnyD than sing.

Fang must seriously have some kind of mojo on me because he managed to convince me to get up on stage and sing. The song Hope had picked out of me was Avril Lavigne's "I Miss You." Gotta give the kid props, she knew just the song I needed. But anyway, I sang and now we're waiting to hear the verdict.

Lorne, the owner of Caritas and a green-skinned demon, sidles over and pulls up a chair at our already crowded table. "You're not from around here, are you, sweet-cheeks?"

I lean forward with a grin. "Trust you to figure that bit out, Lorne."

"If you're looking for a way home –"

I hold up my hand, cutting him off. "I have to wait a coupla years, I know. What else you got?"

"This… object, you're looking for, you're not the one who's going to find it."

"Which one of us is, Lorne?" Angel asks, leaning forward.

Lorne leans back in his seat, utterly comfortable in his flashy suit. "I'm afraid, butter bean, that what I got from the Rogue Slayer doesn't tell me that. I've got another opening in about an hour or so, if you really need to know."

"Do you know where it is?"

Lorne shakes his head. "Sorry, Angel-cakes, I got nothing."

I grin, suddenly remembering a conversation I'd had with my Angel. "Get ready to sing 'Mandy,' Angel."


	9. Remember

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter Eight: Remember

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, Buffy, or X-Men.

Author's Note: We're now within the first few episodes of Angel Season Two. I've sped up a few things, so Angel Investigations has now moved into the Hyperion, just to clear up any confusion.

"Did ya kill it?" I grin as Angel walks through the door, sword in hand.

"Yes, I killed it. And let me tell you, getting thrown off a horse is _not_ good for the back." Angel stows his sword in the weapon's cabinet.

"Ya know, I had all sorts of fun killing those demons you dragged through here. How's the chick?" I hop over the counter, landing easily on the other side.

"Better now that she has the Triad's protection. But I suppose you knew that already?"

I grin. "I got to hear the story from the other side of a visitation window. Also got to hear about that whole 'Mandy' bit. Gotta say, hearing you sing in person… that was painful."

"Believe me, it was painful on this end, too."

"Ah, Angel, there you are." Val came in, heels clicking on the marble floor. "Would you_please_ convince Faith to go back and talk to Lorne? She doesn't seem to grasp that we need more information to send her home."

I roll my eyes. Val had been trying to force me to go back and talk to Lorne since he finally left our table. "I don't need to talk to Lorne to figure out my future, Val. I told you this."

"I don't think I can convince her once she's made up her mind, Val," Angel points out, shrugging.

Val lets out a huff of breath. "Well, then I guess you won't be going home anytime soon, Faith."

"I guess not." I really don't think Val got that I had already resigned myself to the years I'd have to spend here. If I had to wait, then so be it. My relationship with B was strong enough to survive the separation. We were strong enough to survive it.

* * *

"So, how much time have we got?"

Hope and I were having what she called a sleepover. How it could be a sleepover when we lived in the same hotel is beyond me. I called what Hope and I were doing "Movie Night." That's what B and I always called them, even in high school.

"Not a clue." I grab a handful of popcorn and pretty much inhale it. "Next year. Year after. I'm plannin' on heading to SunnyD when Willow shows up to tell us B's dead. SunnyD needs a Slayer."

"Why can't I go?"

"Wasn't plannin' on leavin' you behind, H. Fang and the rest will be fine without us."

Hope grins, settling back against her couch. I swear the couch acts more often as a backrest than a couch. "What's Sunnydale like?"

I shrug, staring at Ryan Phillippe and Reese Witherspoon making out on screen but not really seeing them. My mind was back in my Sunnydale with my Buffy Summers. Wonderfully happy memories mixed with the very bad. Dancing at the Bronze with B, fighting B in an almost-dance, patrolling Sunnydale's twelve cemeteries, stabbing Allan Finch. Dark nights in that crappy motel; a house full of potential Slayers; dinners with B, Dawnie, and Joyce; talks with Spike. Although Sunnydale saw my darkest days, it was still more home than Boston, LA, Xavier's, or Cleveland.

"Faith?" Hope nudges me, a worried look on her face.

"What?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm five by five. Just remembering."


	10. Can't Talk

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter Nine: Can't Talk

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, Buffy, or X-Men.

Buffy Anne Summers. 1981-2001. She saved the world. A lot.

Somehow, I'd never gotten to read her grave-marker until now. Kinda didn't have the time before SunnyD went to Hell. I'm very sure that my B's glad hers got buried along with everything else still left in our SunnyD. I'm pretty sure this Buffy wouldn't be happy to know that I'm standing here staring at her grave-marker. I should've brought flowers.

Buffy probably wouldn't care either way.

Without her, SunnyD just isn't the same. Sure, this time around Hope and I managed to dispel the vamp biker gangs Angel told me about; but it just isn't the same. It helps that Spike's around, but he mostly takes care of Dawnie.

"Faith! Earth to Faith." Hope waves her hand in my face, jerking me out of my thoughts. It's not good that I'm so spaced. Night in a graveyard and all.

"What?"

"Willow and Tara are going to get worried if we're not home soon."

I nod, turning away from Buffy's grave. "Them, I can deal with. Val on the other hand…"

Upon moving back to SunnyD, Val went from bad to worse. She's desperately afraid that I'll say the wrong thing and totally screw up the space-time continuum. But seriously, I'm keeping my mouth shut on the important stuff and keeping out of things I could screw up.

"So… you got anything you want to talk about?" Hope asks as we turn onto Revello Drive.

I shrug. "No."

"I know who's grave that was, Faith."

"So? What about it?"

Hope shrugs. "I dunno. I just figured you might want to talk about it. She died a lot younger than your Buffy did."

"No, she didn't."

"But your Buffy's still alive."

"More like B's alive again. Look, this is something I can't talk about. Drop it."

"But-"

"No. I'm serious. Drop it." We'd reached Buffy's house by now so I pretty much storm into the house. I head for the basement, away from everyone.

My jacket comes off and goes onto the workbench. My fists start to connect repeatedly with the jumbo-sized punching bag. My face is most likely contorted into a snarl. As weird as it sounds for me, all I want to do right now is curl up in B's arms and cry.

* * *

"I don't suppose you'd like to leave that intact so we have it to hit later." Spike's British-accented drawl interrupts the sound of my fists hitting the punching bag.

"That depends, you offering to substitute?" I keep punching the bag, keeping myself focused on it.

"Touchy." I heard him set something on the stairs. "Tara sent me down with this."

"I can't talk about it." I stop hitting the bag and catch it with both hands, stopping its swinging.

"Wasn't askin'."

"Good." I lean my head against the punching bag. My shirt is soaked with sweat and now that I'm thinking about it, my hands hurt.

I hear the click of Spike's lighter behind me and smell the smoke from his newly lit cigarette. "Need a smoke?"

"B made me quit." I turn away from the punching bag. "It's been years since I smoked."

Spike shrugs and lets out a sigh, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "She always did have to have things exactly her way."

"Yeah." I walk over and pick up the plate Spike brought down. Tara had sent a leftover burger and a handful of carrot-sticks. "Thanks."

"No problem."

I look around the basement, at all the boxes. "Ya know, we had this talk once, you and me. About sex."

Spike laughs mirthlessly. "Not exactly enlightening there, Slayer."

I shrug. "I know. I can't talk about anything but the pointless shit. It sucks."

Spike nods, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "Doesn't seem like there's much but the pointless shit to talk about."

"Life's full of it."


	11. From Hope's Point of View

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Title: Intricate: Faith's Story

Author: Felidae Silvestris

Chapter Ten: From Hope's Point Of View

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, Buffy, or X-Men.

There's something weird going down in Sunnydale. Weirder than the usual Mutant, demon, and vampire stuff. I can feel it.

The whole house is antsy. Faith's trying to avoid whatever she's supposed to be avoiding; Willow, Xander, Anya, and Tara are up to something. Dawn's just being Dawn… or what I've seen of her anyway. And Spike… I think he's just as clueless about what's going on as Dawn and I are.

Faith goes out every night after we patrol. I suspect she's always going to the Bronze, but I could be wrong. She's charged me with protecting the house and the people in it. This job could not get any more boring. Spike's always going in and out all night and then the rest of the Scoobys are in and out all day.

All in all, Sunnydale is not the most exciting place I've ever been to. At least Val's not around to annoy Faith even more than she already is.

* * *

I watch Faith stake a few vampires from my vantagepoint in the shadows of one of the stone angels that pop up randomly in cemeteries. I can tell she's angry about something, but she's not talking.

"Were you going to help or just sit there?" Faith asks, brushing vamp-dust from her jacket.

"You had it handled." I hop down from the angel's pedestal. "I'll take the next batch, unless you'd rather work out some more rage."

She gives me a sharp look and then sighs. "Let's just call it a night."

I shrug and follow Faith as she takes our usual shortcut home. It goes right by Buffy's grave, which isn't actually a shortcut, but I'm not about to bring that up. Anyway, we walk toward Buffy's grave and as we get closer, I distinctly hear someone chanting.

Faith freezes and turns, making to walk the other way. "We have to go."

"Go where?" I hurry to catch up with her. She ignores me, walking quickly away from whoever was chanting. "Faith! Go where?!"

She turns around, her eyes almost burning with rage. "Somewhere away from them. Away from what they're doing. Just away." Faith turns back and storms away, leaving me completely confused.

Faith knows what's going on.


End file.
